


A Hunter’s Welcome

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Consensual bondage, Gagged Sam Winchester, Horny Sam, Kinky Winchesters, M/M, Multi, Outdoor bondage, Potentially Dubious Consent, Tied-Up Sam Winchester, subby sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 06:50:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20719904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Every year, Bobby invites some closer hunter friends to the yard to celebrate surviving another twelve months in the business.This year, Sam offers himself up as an extra welcome.





	A Hunter’s Welcome

**Author's Note:**

> Sam is all for this, eager to be used by a group of dirty old men, but the dubious consent tag is because once things get started anything goes and while he’s aware of that and looking forward to it, he has no way of establishing limits or stopping anything he doesn’t like.

“What do you think?”

Dean’s standing about five feet out from the porch, squinting up, but it’s early evening and the sun’s going to be out of sight behind the house before they’re done.

Sam moves to join him, and looks down at the dirt, watches the angle of the shadow and nods.

“I’ll be fine.”

Dean shrugs, then grins, and grabs his tool bag from the porch.

Bobby supervises, sipping beer and telling Dean just where to hammer in the pegs and how deep, and pelting a bottle cap at Dean’s ass when Dean sasses him and asks if Bobby’s going to contribute anything other than orders.

Then Bobby glances at Sam, meaningfully. “You need me to talk you through your part, as well?”

Sam blushes, and starts to strip. “No, sir.” 

There’s no real rush. The guys Bobby’s invited over for some kind of annual get together of his aren’t going to be pulling in for another hour, but all the same Sam doesn’t want to wait until they’re five minutes out.

He’s kind of looking forward to this, to the _inbetween_, and there’s no hiding it.

Bobby eyes his erection, and shakes his head. “Boy, you’re gonna get all the action you’re looking for and then some.”

Sam hopes he isn’t wrong. He doesn’t know how Bobby and his buddies celebrated another year of not getting their throats ripped out by wendigos or turned into shit by witches, but if this goes well, and he really really hopes it does, maybe it can be a new tradition for the annual get together.

Dean sits back on his heels when he’s done, and tosses the hammer back into his tool bag.

He comes out with rope, instead, and jerks his head at Sam.

Sam settles himself down between the pegs Dean’s hammered down hard. He tugs at the ones nearest his hands, and Dean lets him, but they don’t budge.

Once Sam’s in place, he’s not getting loose on his own.

Dean ties him down slowly, carefully, making sure each knot is secure, and that the ropes won’t bite or chafe, but that they’re tight enough to make sure Sam has wriggle room and nothing else.

They won’t cut off his circulation, but he’s got a scant centimetre of play in any direction and that’s it.

Bobby rolls down the ramp and peers down at him.

“You want the blindfold and gag?”

Sam licks his lips. Lying here, it’s already intense. Not being able to see who’s coming, who’s touching him, yeah, the thought of that has him nearly coming on the spot.

But there’s part of him that wants to see, to watch the cars pull up, watch the guys who’re going to fuck him raw getting out and coming over, watch them reaching for him and knowing he can’t do a thing to stop it.

“No blindfold,” he says, “but, yeah, gag me.”

Dean pulls out a ball gag, nothing too huge, Sam’s easily able to breathe around it, but once it’s seated, he tries to speak and all the sounds he makes are muffled.

Dean looks up at Bobby, gets a satisfied nod, and closes up the tool bag.

He glances at his watch, and Sam wants to know, how long until Bobby’s pals get there, but Dean just grins at him and walks away.

Bobby lingers. “Some of these guys are older than me,” he tells Sam. “But they ain’t gonna act like it.”

And then he rolls himself back inside, and shuts the door.

Sam strains against the rope, testing it, and imagines how he must look, stretched out and helpless.

He whines through the gag, so hard it hurts, and wonders what the hunters will do to him.

He imagines thick fingers in his ass, somebody holding his cheeks open for a good eating out, and maybe they have other things they’re going to shove in there beside fingers and tongues and dicks.

He imagines one of them playing with his nipples, squeezing and twisting until Sam’s writhing to get away from him even though he can’t.

And maybe when they’re done, they’ll cum all over every inch of him, even in his hair, and then go inside and just leave him out here, until Dean or Bobby has pity and comes out and hoses him down before finally letting him go.

He’s humping the air, desperate beyond measure, when he hears the drone of an engine, coming closer, and now there’s more than one, and he looks around, straining a little to see some cars and a van pulling up, and some guys getting out, and staring at him a little in surprise.

And then coming closer.

“Well,” one of them says, and Bobby was right, he looks around seventy but he’s solid and rough looking, too. “Bobby also did know how to roll out the welcome mat. And you...You must be Sam.”

He looks at the men gathered around the helpless body tied out for them. “Come on, guys. Let’s get introduced.”


End file.
